


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by kaghani



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Holidays, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5552723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaghani/pseuds/kaghani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"i live below you and i was minding my own business watching the snowfall out the window WHEN I SAW A BODY FALL ARE YOU REALLY PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS LIGHTS NOW"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> A belated Christmas-themed fic from a prompt meme on tumblr. Starring Korra and the kind of Asami that gets knocked over onto her back in a room full of guests and just lays there for a moment.

Korra and her bowl of pumpkin-ginger soup had just settled into that comfy nook in her second-hand couch, when a very large bird makes a vertical drop right in front of her window.

Korra needs a moment to process – there’s a loud rustling sound, and a ladder sweeps across her view of the bleary, snowy landscape like a windshield wiper – and then she doesn’t need her moment any longer. She barely notices the bowl hitting the floor, and Korra’s at the window in seconds, nearly breaking the latches to pry it open.

“Hello!?” Korra shouts, before the window’s even open. “Stay there, and don’t move, I’m coming down!”

There’s a groan in response that has blood roaring through Korra’s ears. She’s flying down the stairs, two steps at once, sometimes three. Some sensible part of her, a voice that’s recently taken the tone and timbre of Mako’s, thinks what a good idea it would have been to _take your phone, this could be serious!_ Korra can’t bring herself to turn back for it, though. If this person needs emergency care, she’ll just have to find someone to get on that. Korra’s never been shy about disturbing the peace when someone needed help, even if it wasn’t the most efficient way of doing things.

It’s cold outside, and the snow stings against her uncovered ears and bare arms, but running helps. Only when Korra steps off the sidewalk to round the building, her fuzzy sock-clad feet crunch into a foot of snow. Icy moisture seeps in through the fabric. It definitely slows her down, but Korra’s not going to turn back now. She stomps through the obstacle, reminded of her childhood in her parents’ tribe south of the mountains, where the three of them would race against sudden snowfall to close their outdoor shed or move their truck back into the community garage.

Korra’s toes are numb by the time she runs to the back of their three-story brick-row house.

When Korra gets there, she does a quick survey of the scene of the accident. She allows herself some relief at the sight of body on a bed of thick, snow-covered bushes, but the person – the _woman_ , familiar long black hair flung over the top of her head in a sleek, shiny mop, slowly saturating with melting snowflakes, one leg awkwardly strewn over the edge of the bushes – lays motionless on her front.

 _Gorgeous upstairs neighbor, Disney-princess hair, helmet tucked under her arm all the time_. Korra doesn’t _know her_ -know her, but they’ve exchanged smiles and greetings on their ways out or in.

But it’s _her_.

Korra prepares herself to knock at every window to get ahold of someone with a phone, leaping over the fallen ladder and moving to pull the woman off the shrubs to face up. As soon as Korra’s got a hand on the woman’s waist, though, she slightly turns her head from where her arms cradle it. Korra instantly draws her hand back.

And, okay, this is not the time to stare at the woman’s adorable sheepish grin or the crinkle at the corner of her eyes. “Hey,” she greets, “Sorry if I worried you.”

Korra clears her throat, and reminds herself of the fact that this woman had fallen three stories. Concussions and neck or spinal injuries are definitely possibilities. Right? “You had a pretty bad fall there. Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

“Oh, please, no. I’m fine. Thank goodness for these bushes. And I covered my head and all,” she says, offering Korra another grin. A slight pink tinges her cheeks. “Besides, I’ll be honest; I had to deal with some…relatives the last time I went to the ER. It would be so _awful_ to go through that again.” She’s pouting.

 _Pouting_.

“Oh?” Korra’s pretty sure she shouldn’t trust the possibly delirious stories of a woman who’d fallen three stories. Even if it had been into some soft bushes. Even if she is cute, even if she has troublesome family. She’ll wonder about how lonely her holidays must be, later.

Korra looks up from where she’s standing, squinting through the falling snow. Past her own second-floor window is another window – this woman’s, presumably – a string of colorful serial lights lining three edges. The tail of it dangles from a corner.

“Please don’t tell me you were seriously –” Korra doesn’t get to finish the thought. While she’d been trying to comprehend the ridiculousness of putting up lights during a storm like this, the woman, meanwhile, had been trying to extract herself from her predicament.

She’s upright, one foot on the mulch, the other buried thigh-deep in the bushes, hands propped on the wall in a weird angle that’s got her spine locked uncomfortably to the side.

“Um…” She says, looking from one of her legs to the other. She sighs, but not dejectedly. It’s a very matter-of-fact, _well what have we here_ kind of sigh. “I was just trying to put some Christmas lights up.”

Korra finds herself trying to not giggle. This woman, with her sweeping mannerisms, deep voice and impeccable dress, is just about the most ridiculous person Korra’d met up here.

“Here, let me help,” Korra says, a little laughter spilling into her words. The woman doesn’t miss it, eyes widening a little before the edges meet the corners of a trusting smile.

They try a bit of strategy before Korra actually lifts her, hauling her up until her leg comes free. She sets her on the ground, both giggling from the silliness of it all.

The woman’s face suddenly freezes in disbelief. “You must be so cold!”

“Actually, I’m from south of the mountains. It’s like this every day.” Actually, the woman’d reminded Korra how cold – and wet – it is. Her feet are beyond numb and the distraction of damsels in distress have worn off. Each snowflake feels like a needle on her arms. She manages to hold still for another second, before she wraps her arms around herself and bounces on her toes. “But, you’re right, I’m freezing. Let’s go inside!”

They run – okay, lightly jog to the best of their abilities – around the buildings and into the main door. Korra’s in desperate need for a hot bath, which she announces. The woman won’t stop apologizing.

“Seriously,” Korra says, even as her ears burn at the sensation of the sudden heat indoors. She steps off the landing into the hallway, and gestures at her open door. “It’s fine. Come in for a bit? I made pumpkin soup.”

“Um…sure,” she says. “But are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Korra says, shivering in the middle of her living room. The woman stands in front of her closed door, a little awkwardly, a hand on a nearby end-table. “I’m not the one who fell three stories, though.”

She cracks a smile. “I’m just a klutz sometimes.”

“Well, just in case, I’d be more comfortable if I kept an eye on you for a while. In case of uh...need for medical attention.”

“I’m fine, I swear!” She protests. But she takes a seat on Korra’s spot in the couch.

Korra excuses herself for a moment, settling for a quick, hot shower, in the stead of a bath, and returns to the living room in her comfiest flannel pajamas. The woman is cleaning up the mess of soup on the floor.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that!”

The woman looks up sheepishly again. “It’s the least I can do. Thanks for helping me. That was sort of embarrassing.”

“That’s stupid!” Korra says, before thinking. “I-I mean…don’t be embarrassed. Besides, I finally made a friend around here!” _Oh,_ _crap_. Looks like _thinking_ isn’t really helping her say nice, sociable things any more than not thinking.

Before her thoughts let her get thoroughly embarrassed by her foot in her mouth, the woman giggles. It’s the nicest sound Korra’s heard in a while, and she grins.

“You did brave the storm to rescue me. That pretty much makes you my knight in shining armor.”

Korra laughs, and she’s positive her cheeks must be pink. “Hey, I’m Korra by the way. If you want some pumpkin soup, I can help you with your lights afterward?”

Her green eyes sparkle, and if Korra’s pulse quickens, she doesn’t even blame herself. She’s beautiful. “Sure.” She extends her hand. “Asami.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!


End file.
